ArchivedLogs:Robotrip

Robotrip
Dramatis Personae Anette & Teague	2015-10-24 "There's a reason the Brotherhood doesn't have a retirement plan." (Part of Flu Season TP.)
Location <BOM> Infirmary - Main Lodge - Ascension Island
It is a small space, but a crisply clean one. It lacks the rustic charm of many of the other buildings -- in here it is steel and concrete, thick metal door and cold metal tables. Cool white walls. Stark-bright fluorescent lighting. Against the walls there are cabinets low and cabinets high, space between them broken up by steel counters and a pair of sinks, one larger than its sibling on the opposite wall. There is a desk tucked into a corner, home to computer and a pair of filing cabinets to either side. This room holds beds, too, a pair of cots near the back. Centrally there is a segmented examination table, steel as well though its metal is softened by a covering of padding. Occasionally stored against the walls or occasionally brought over near beds and tables as needed, a smattering of monitors and medical equipment give this room clear purpose. An adjoining bathroom has a small shower along with sink and toilet. It seems every blanket within a five mile radius has been claimed and Anette is now buried with nothing more than her head and one arm peaking through. The TV is currently tuned to the Game Show Network, the universal 'staying home sick with the flu' channel. Which is exactly what Anette is doing. Even with just her face visible, it's very easy to tell she's not up to her usual self. Her face is pale, she shivers periodically despite the blankets, and every few seconds she let's out a hoarse cough. In her free hand she's holding a large mug filled with steaming chicken noodle soup that she takes small sips from, not bothering with a spoon. "Pemberly!" Jewel answers the game show host's question before throwing his tissue box at the laptop the pair is using as a TV. His pathetic Mr. Burns arm falls limply into his heavily blanketed lap as the box misses its target ...by a lot. "Ugh," he grumbles, turning his chapped nose up towards the ceiling before falling back into his pillows. Rolling his head around dramatically in the fluff and comfort, he turns to pout over at Anette, "I hate you." "You hate me? What did I do?" Anette asks before falling into a coughing fit. She glances towards the TV, frowning slightly. "Oh my god it's the first question, it's not even that hard!" she yells, before slumping into her cocoon. She takes another gulp of soup, chewing on the noodles and vegetables slowly. "Just when I was done being bed-ridden..." "Because-" Jewel never gets to answer, he just keeps coughing and sniffling, and coughing more. By the time the fit has passed, he doesn't remember what he was answering. Instead, he just reaches out longingly for the tissue box he's thrown. "Return to me," he calls to it quietly, in a hoarse voice. Anette throws the tissue box back at Teague. "Hey, I caught this from you. I /never/ get sick," she replies, groaning slightly as she looks down at her slowly shrinking soup. "God I wish Daken was here. I don't think I'm physically capable of cooking anymore." "How??" The boy grumbles as he hobbles out of his bed, "We only snogged the once." Jewel offers a playful smirk as he creeps over to retrieve his tissues. He just wears a flimsy white tank-top and pajama pants. Setting the tissue box back onto his bed, he moves across the Infirmary. He picks up a fat bottle of cough syrup in each hand, jostling the thick, brightly colored liquid, "Should we robotrip, eh?" He crinkles up his nose to be cute. "You're so lucky I can't reach you right now..." Anette groans as she unburies her other taloned hand, pretending to try to gouge Teague's eyes out. She watches him get out of bed and move about with some interest. "Last time I had to get out from under the covers, I nearly froze to death. Robotrip?" "It's when you take too much cough syrup," Jewel grumbles more as he climbs back into the cot, tossing a bottle onto the pile of blankets that is Anette, "Gives you wild dreams. You seriously have never done it? You must have and just not called it anything." Flumping onto his back, the boy kicks his legs until they are fully under the covers. "We just called it getting drunk. Haven't done it since high school," Anette says, picking up the bottle as it's tossed to her. "Seriously? Isn't it kinda...amateur-ish?" She examines the bottle, as if contemplating if it's worth the effort. "Well, I'm seventeen, and I skipped high school for this shit-show," Jewel gives Anette a BIG SHRUG as he presses his palm into the bottle's child safety lid, unscrewing it. He lifts it into the air in salute, looking over to the owl woman expectantly. "Cheers. It'll be fun," he adds in a breathy tone, "And we're not doing anything else while we're sick." "Fair warning, I tend to get, ah...'snoggy' when I've been drinking," Anette teases with a wink, unscrewing the cap and holding it up to toast. Her toast mostly consists of another coughing fit before she closes her eyes and tilts the bottle back, quickly gulping down the bottle in one breath. Jewel tilts his head haughtily, as if they might be at a fancy dinner party, "Well-" He coughs. "-I bet you are just a fantastic kisser." With that, he follows suit, downing a great portion of the bottle's contents. He can't finish it all, however. "Ugh!" Jewel exclaims halfway through, bringing the back of his hand to his mouth with a disgusted expression. "Only one way to find out," Anette responds, attempting to continue the flirty banter but it comes out as yet another coughing fit. "God damn if we survive this, I'm murdering you..." she grumbles. She sets the empty bottle and her soup mug down on a nearby table and leans back against the pillows. "So anyway, how've you been?" “Oh, now you’re getting all chummy?” Jewel replaces the cap on his half-full bottle at tosses it erm, somewhere amongst the blankets. “It’ll only be harder to kill me, you know.” Frowning, the boy legs one of his legs come free from the covers. He hand traces over the bandage just beneath the fabric of his pajama pants, “Been feeling a bit raw about what happened Kay, I think. I keep telling myself that’s just what we’ve signed up for.” "It's terrible but it's...it's what happens, y'know? There's a reason the Brotherhood doesn't have a retirement plan," Anette says with as much tact and sympathy as she can muster. "He was a good guy though. It's not going to be the last time this happens." Watching Anette through his peripheral for a moment, Jewel grows somber. He continues to trace the outline of the bandage, “Certainly not.” … “But I refuse to believe that the acquaintances we make here are all just, temporary.” He turns to her, a glean of naivety on his face. Perhaps he’s just showing his age. “Are you still on those painkillers?” "Even if we all lived nice cozy lives in the city working 9 to 5 office jobs, all our acquaintances would just be temporary. We're just...more aware of it here," Anette says. She's normally not this philosophical, it must be the robotrip talking. "The painkillers? Nope, ran out of those," Anette says, turning towards the TV again. Technically it's the truth. “Good,” Jewel manages between coughs, tilting his back to watch the game show. He’s not invested in her enough to tell whether or not she’s lying about it. “Ugh, can you imagine us in an office? So catty.” He grins, reaching for the bottle of cough syrup, again. “I would /obviously/ be the receptionist, I have the best paper weights.” "Hmm, I can't imagine what an office would need with an owl," Anette ponders. "I do miss that mutant pig you gave me," she adds with a chuckle. "Almost regret selling him." "Why, you can deliver our letters," Jewel cocks his head, "Obviously." The boy shifts onto his side to get a better view of the show. By the time the pair settles into comfortable silence, it isn't long before he's asleep from the cough syrup. It isn't long before an innocent looking slumber brews into shifting here, tossing there, a wince, and a brow wrinkled in concentration. He mutters things -- apologies, regrets. Anette didn't take to sleeping quite so easily - her brain apparently settled for a more meditative zombie-like state. So she easily blinks her eyes open as the other one begins to have a fit. It takes a moment for the situation to penetrate the drug-induced fog in her brain but in a very un-Anette moment, she appears deeply concerned. She carefully climbs out of her bed and walks over to Teague's, stealing a blanket of her own and wrapping it tightly over her wings and shoulders. She watches him closely, brows fit before she leans over and kisses his forehead - a purely innocent gesture, maternal almost. She finds a spot beside him and carefully positions herself on his bed, on top of his covers. Freeing one of her wings, she gently drapes it over him before closing her eyes and fading off again.